A Description Of Olde Rome Poem by Roger Cotton

Thou Rome, thy Armes Saint Iohn hath blasd,
most cleare and playne to see:
Thou Rome dost stand on seauen hils,
what Citie olde but thee?


Thou Rome, that Purpled strumpets seate,
that ouer Kinges dost raigne.
Thou Rome, that was, and eke was not,
yet now thou art agayne.


Thou Rome, the eight, and yet of seauen,
thou art accompted one:
Thou Rome, to wracke destruction calls,
thou must as rest haue gon.


O Rome, why are thyne eares so stopt?
why are thyne eyes so dim?
Thou Rome, the Image of first Beast,
thou mights be warnd by him.


Thou Rome, that latter Kittim art,
thou man of sinne so cald:
Thou Rome must perysh now a pace,
thou hast long ouer ruld.


Thou Rome, that Sodom sinke of sinne,
thou Ægypt art, and worse:
Thou Rome, that Babel mysticall,
whose fall now we rehearse.


Thou Rome, whose policie we know,
the Lord of lyfe did kill:
Thou Rome, with Pilate wilt wash handes,
yet blood of Saints to spill.


Thou Rome, thou Lion, Beare, Leopard,
thou Beast, that hornes hast ten:
Thou Rome, that Lambe would seeme to be,
yet Armes from Daniels won.


Thou Rome, thy Frogs yape all in vayne,
thy Scorpions stinges be dull:
Thou Rome, take heede, the Kings on earth,
thy flesh from backe will pull.


Thou Rome, thy Locustes haue the fruites,
of ground so long likt vp:
That Rome, thy senses be too dull,
by reason of thy fat.


Thou Rome, like Balam Prophet false,
dost kill mens soules for gayne:
Thou Rome, mee thinkes an Asse may teach,
thou therefore must be slayne.


Thou Rome, thus much thou knowest full well,
that Babylon must fall:
O Rome so blind, canst thou not see,
that God doth thee so call.


Thou Rome, the Italian synagog,
that number well so fits:
Thou Rome, we hate thy name to weare,
sixe hundreth sixtie sixe.


Thou Rome, there is a man found out,
but not from tribe of Dan:
Yet Rome a man this number hath,
which is Adonikam.


A name thou Rome, most fit and iust,
to shew thy Popes thereby:
For they as GOD, on earth stand vp,
who can the same deny.


Thou Rome, God bids come out from thee.
and giue thee double pay:
Thou Rome, if so, he would vs blesse,
though thou and thine say nay.


But Rome, while we so sparing be,
to rid our land of thee:
Both thornes in sides, and prickes in eyes,
to vs thou must needes bee.


Yet Rome, yf fayth and loue we keepe,
yf manners thine we voyde:
Thou Rome, be sure our Candlesticke
with vs still shall abyde.


If we reuiue thinges like to dye,
and worde of God do seeke:
We Pillers shall in Temple be,
sayth hee, that Key doth keepe.


If we so colde, waxe hot agayne,
and golde desire to buye:
Thou Rome shalt not our land then haue,
know thou assuredly.


Thou Rome, hast not an eare to heare,
thou eye-salue wilt buy none:
Thou Rome, the holy Cities Iewels,
of thee they are vnknowne.


But Rome, we knocke at gate of God,
for opening to his throne:
Thou Rome, we fall downe flat to craue,
that we may weare his name.


And Rome know thou that we haue eares,
and eyes we haue to see:
The tree of Life, with whose greene leaues,
all Nations healed be.


Call more O Lord, this Tree to see,
by thy two witnesses:
An hundreth fourtie foure thousand,
to be thy senniories.


Shew vs O Lord, with golden Reede,
thy Arke, thy Manna hid:
Shew vs thyne Alter of fine golde,
whose Incense standes in steede,


Cloth vs with holy garmentes White,
and golden Girdles giue:
Vs Sacrificers, wash thou cleane,
that we may euer lyue.


Lo Rome, we crowned are with Starres,
of Postles twelue, for light:
And Moses, Prophets, Christ the ground,
to frame our buyldinges right.


Loe Rome, our Lampes are filde with Oyle,
our Harpes be tunde with skill:
Our Trumpets sound eternall prayse,
to him that heares vs well.


So Rome, our Sackcloth shall remoue,
and with Palme bowes wee sing:
Hosanna, and Halaluiah,
to Christ our Head and King.


To whom all prayse and glory be,
both now and euermore:
For all good graces shewed to vs,
we giue him thankes therefore.